


Get him Flowers

by BizarreBlues



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Also sorta an AU where Joxter raised Snufkin, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, I mention other characters but its mainly joxter and snufkin, M/M, Other, Sensory issues snufkin, aka joxter tries to be a helpful dad, good dad joxter, snufkin is trying his best with his crush on moomin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-03-20 17:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18997105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BizarreBlues/pseuds/BizarreBlues
Summary: Snufkin knew he wouldn’t have a good time at the Moominvalley’s large festival. That was why he didn’t go. This was nothing to feel guilty over, and yet here he was.Aka I thought up one scene and made an impromptu fic because of it





	1. Late Night Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never written for Moominvalley before. Can’t say this isn’t just a self indulgent thing that I wrote for myself, but I thought some of you might like it also. Fair warning, I didn’t bother much with reading over it and doing corrections. Enjoy

Socializing has never been Snufkin’s strong suit. Very often, he would keep away from public events, finding them far too draining and loud. There were too many smells and folks bumbling around, shoving and pushing and bumping into each other as well as him. There were a few upsides. He didn’t dislike some of the events such as music and, at times, dancing. Though even at that Snufkin would only choose to attend those if he weren’t tired. Most of the time he only went to dance with Moomin, anyway. 

Above the discomfort that came with the events, Snufkin  _ hated _ being forced to one. He couldn’t say that he knew much about this one, only that it was going to be large. People from all over were attending, bringing different foods and festivities. He had even caught wind that Matron Mymble and all thirty-four of her children would show up. Snufkin has always traveled alone; he couldn’t imagine making a trip with someone else much less thirty-four bouncing kids.

It was true that he may have agreed to come to said event weeks earlier. It was also true that he was in the middle of a nap when he agreed, and may not have been paying attention. 

Distant music could be heard. The festival started about half an hour ago, when the sun was finally beginning to lay to rest. Snufkin took his cue to leave about an hour ago. Seeing setup was all it took for him to get a hint.

He was tired. Perhaps a little nervous and underprepared for the overwhelming excitement, but that was it. Sometimes events like these were simply just not his scene. Yes, that was the reason he was clinging onto a tree branch for dear life, tail tucked against himself in hopes that he’d win this impromptu game of hide-n-seek. 

“If I have to suffer through this, so do you!” Little My’s voice echoed through the woods, slightly difficult to hear over the wind. She, Sniff, and the Mymble’s daughter had been hot on his trail for quite a bit now. No doubt that soon they would get tired and assume he left for the evening. He just needed to stay hidden until then. 

“Oh come now, it’s a lot of fun. Perhaps he just forgot something and left to go find it?” Mymble’s daughter spoke softly. They were coming closer. 

“Yeah right. He’s just trying to get outta this. Besides, we both know you only came to get away from all our little siblings.” My argued back. Snufkin heard no response. 

“Guys, we’re seriously gonna miss out. Let’s just let Moomin know we didn’t find him and head back. It’s not like we didn’t try.” Sniff chimed in, much to Snufkin’s relief. 

He heard more shuffling, and the voices became too distant to eavesdrop anymore. 

This was a success, technically, but there was a pang of guilt. Of course Moomin would be looking for him as well. Those three may have been looking in the right area, but Snufkin had no way to tell who else was searching. Knowing Moomin, there’d probably be call for a search party. 

He took comfort in the thought that very few people would agree to such a thing, and those people probably just left to return to the fun. 

Still, it didn’t feel good. He was sure his friend would get over it soon, dancing the night away and trying all sorts of foods. Moomin knew how to make the most of a situation, he wouldn’t let something like this ruin his entire night. He hoped. 

Silence surrounded him, but he didn’t move. Something felt off still. What it was exactly soon became obvious, and Snufkin’s ears twitched as he heard the familiar ruffling of leaves. The party hadn’t given up their search after all. It was times like these that he wished he had his father’s eyes. Night vision must’ve been useful. Instead he dug his claws deeper into the bark, staying still as a statue. 

The movement stopped. 

“Oh, young Moomin,” said a voice, sounding full to the brim with pity, “Don’t cry now, I’m sure Snufkin will turn about soon.” 

The faint guilt swelling in his chest suddenly grew, stabbing him in the chest and dragging up to his throat. It became to much. Snufkin shot up into a sitting position, looking down at poor Moomintroll. He should have just sucked it up. An apology for abandoning him was already on his tongue.

And fell flat as he was greeted with a low, wicked laugh. 

“You’re transparent, my boy.” The Joxter snickered. He stood alone.

Snufkin blinked, confusion quickly leaving his face to be replaced with joy thinly masked with disdain. 

“Oh come now, don’t look at me that way. I won that round.” Joxter’s smile was filled with absolute glee. 

“Why’re you here? You never come to Moominvalley, and you can’t  _ sleep  _ at a festival.” He teased. Snufkin knew the Joxter well. They hadn’t traveled together in years, but the man did raise him. Gracefully, he jumped out of the tree. As he stood he felt his hat being taken off his head, a claw running through his hair. Snufkin looked up, Joxter slowly blinked. 

“I had no idea about this festival,” Joxter placed Snufkin’s hat back on his head, “Call it bad timing. Or good timing, perhaps. Given your situation it sounds as if you need an excuse to be gone.” 

“You came to visit me?” His eyebrows furrowed. Snufkin met with his father during his winter travels much more often than during the summer. He was met with a laugh. 

“No, if I’m honest. I came to see my dear Mymble. She wasn’t at her house. However… it isn’t difficult to track a women with over thirty kids. Though I’ve spent no time with her. Like you said, you cannot sleep at festivals.” He began to walk further away from the music. “I’ll visit her some other time.” 

Snufkin followed behind. Once again silence filled the air, making the murmik feel at peace. He was reminded of days long since passed, following his father through the dark woods. Back then, they both traveled at night. It was what Joxter preferred, and although Snufkin traveled more in the sunlight now he appreciated how comfortable he felt in the dark due to it. 

They stopped by a small stream. Any music or shouting was far out of earshot now. Wordlessly, Joxter laid down in the grass and pulled his hat down to cover his face. Snufkin rolled his eyes. Of course. The Joxter was known for being lazy. This wasn’t completely true- Snufkin knew his father was possibly one of the most dangerous creatures in the valley. He was aware of his skills and abilities, and what he could do to those who went against him. It was all things he had witnessed firsthand. Still, while it wasn’t completely true, it was still true. 

Snufkin sat down next to his father, looking up at the now appearing stars. 

Moomin enjoyed stargazing. He wished Moomin would be out here with him, staring up at the stars and making wishes. A fond smile spread across his face as he dared to daydream. He imagined the things he and his friend would wish for. 

… He bet Moomin wished he was at the festival right now. Snufkin gave a small huff. What would he do there? Watch Moomin and Snorkmaiden dance? Entertain conversation he didn’t care about? It was better off that he wasn’t there, he wouldn’t have had a good time. Snufkin knew himself too well for that. It was true that he was tired, but the thought of upsetting Moomin left still him agitated. He couldn’t explain why.

Snufkin was shaken out of his thoughts by a few words. He looked over at Joxter, trying to make himself remember the words he wasn’t listening to. He never need to wonder for long.

“I said, what’s wrong?” Joxter’s voice was low, sounding naturally threatening, but he heard the concern through it. 

“Noth-“ 

“Come now, son.” Joxter flicked his hat so he could peer out from under it. “I find you in a tree hiding from some kids, and all you’ve been doing tonight is getting your head in the clouds while huffing and puffing in frustration.” 

Snufkin could feel his burn. “Ah…” Was all he could think to say in response. What  _ was _ wrong? The Joxter lit his pipe while Snufkin thought. 

“You see,” He began, “I just.. I’m tired. I don’t want to go to the festival.” 

The Joxter raised an eyebrow as he huffed on his pipe. “You’re not at the festival. You’re here with me.” 

“I know, but I don’t want Moomin to be upset later that I wasn’t there. I’m sure he wants me to try the food and dance and, well, have a good time, but I don’t want to. Not tonight. And, and I’m sure he’d be very understanding- he always is- but I can’t help but feel bad.” Snufkin stared at the water. It was easier to talk to Moomin about emotional things than anyone else, but he couldn’t talk to Moomin about Moomin. He’d have to settle. 

“That’s an easy fix.” The Joxter smiled, showing off his sharp teeth. 

“Is it?” 

“Just get him flowers or something.” Snufkin paused, squinting his eyes. He tried to reason out the logic behind this solution, but the dots didn’t connect.

“You’ll have to explain that one to me.” Joxter handed over the pipe, which Snufkin easily accepted. 

“It’s straightforward, son. You do something that might upset Moomin, get him flowers or something to make up for it. Bonus if he ain’t upset at all. Score yourself some brownie points. This is just how it works when you’re dating someone.” 

Snufkin choked on the smoke. 

After a coughing fit followed by a few gulps of whatever the hell Joxter had in his flask and some rough pats on the back, Snufkin stared at his father with wide and tears eyes. 

_ “Dating?!” _

“Isn’t that what you two are? Boyfriends? What with the way you lookit him-“ 

“No! No. No, no, no-“ Snufkin’s face was burning. He couldn’t make eye contact with Joxter. “It’s not like that at all. Moomin is just my best friend. How long did you assume?” 

“While, now. He’s your favorite topic of conversation, I just figured-“ Snufkin buried his face in his paws. He was certain that he had been lowkey about his feelings. It was true that he spent more time with Moomin than anyone else, and that he talked about his often, and- oh god. 

“Papa, please tell me it’s not… How did you know?” Snufkin looked over, frowning upon seeing how Joxter tried to hold back a rude laugh. “It’s not funny!” 

“Of course it’s not, Snuf.” He grinned, “And hey now, don’t worry. I only raised you, of course I’m gonna know. Even if I didn’t how red your ears are now is telling me where this’ll go.” 

“It won’t.” Snufkin’s voice was suddenly quiet. He took his face out of his paws, looking down. “He’s happy with Snorkmaiden. Plus I… I doubt he…” 

Joxter hummed. He laid down once more, this time pulling Snufkin close. The Murmik looked down, one eyebrow raised. 

“You keep saying you’re tired. Let’s nap.” Joxter said, purring. Snufkin rolled his eyes once again, almost disappointed that Joxter chose to drop the topic. Of course this was his answer. However he had to admit, he missed sleeping curled up with Joxter, listening to the sound of his chest purring. 

Snufkin could put it all aside for one nap. He laid down, feeling an arm pull him close as Joxter’s other hand covered his face once again. Soon Snufkin began to purr himself.

It was nice, peaceful. His tail lazily waved up and down. This was… much nicer than any festival. After a while of listening to nature, Snufkin began to drift in and out of sleep. He frowned when something tugged on his hair. 

His eyes lazily opened, looking up to express his annoyance at the Joxter who, as a habit, decided to wake him from his half nap by licking his head.

There was a smug look on his face. 

“Get him flowers, boy. Trust me on this one.” 

Snufkin closed his eyes once again. Perhaps it wasn’t the worst advice Joxter has ever given him. 


	2. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t going to continue this, but a few folks requested it and I think I liked the idea enough. So here you go, Snufkin actually going through with Joxter’s advice

Looking at the situation plainly, there was no requirement to give Moomin flowers.

Snufkin made the familiar trip back to the Moomins house, though admittedly his pace was slower than usual. His pack felt heavy on his back, and he found himself staring at his boots more than the world he admired so. 

The festival ended, but Snufkin had chose to stay away for a few days. It was for good measure. He didn’t want to be around until everyone had left, and the valley would return to its normal. It was true that Snufkin skipped the festival despite saying he would do otherwise, and that he found himself nervous for how Moomin would feel on the matter. Though he knew his dear friend, and Moomin would be understanding. He would shrug it off, perhaps complain about the missed time, but otherwise it wouldn’t be a big deal. Technically, if Snufkin returned to his friend empty handed, there would be no repercussions. 

And why should he be worried? There was nothing truly tying him to how Moomin felt. His friend could get along very well without him. There was no need to involve himself more in a situation that barely mattered. It mattered so little, in fact, that he had been thinking about it night and day. 

The temptation to throw his small bouquet off to the side and continue on his merry way was strong. He had an excuse, after all. He was spending time with the Joxter- no one could blame him for wanting alone time with his father. Who cares if it fell on the same day as the festival? The Joxter didn’t live on Moominvalley time.

As he walked, his mind wandered back to how he ended in this situation. 

Days spent with his father weren’t ones he regretted. They had decided to spend a few days together. Well, about as “together” as two travelers who needed alone time could get. They often spent the mornings going about their own routines, rejoining at the end of the day to talk and tell tales. They both had many stories to share, but at that time Joxter would only accept stories that involved young Moomintroll. Despite how many times Snufkin tried to avoid the topic, Joxter insisted on bringing it back up. Refusing to talk of it was difficult when it was the one thing that plagued his mind. 

“Well what would I even get him?” Snufkin had asked after short banter, sounding playfully exasperated.

“Roses, I’d wager. Dear Mymble loves to receive those.” 

“I can’t get Moomintroll roses.”

“Why not?” 

“They practically, well… I don’t know if I can be so forward.” Joxter raised an eyebrow at Snufkin as a knowing grin spread across his face, and the murmik frowned upon seeing how funny his father found this. 

“If it’s the language of flowers you’re concerned with, boy, I have just the thing.” Joxter gave a wink. 

Snufkin sighed out of his thoughts. 

His grip tightened on the yellow flowers in his hand. His gaze finally rose, following up path as towards the bridge. There was Moomin, sitting by the stream. Snufkin stopped in his tracks, admiring the sight. Moomin looked so peaceful, laying back in the grass, eyes closed. Was he waiting for him? Part of Snufkin dearly hoped so, the other part only felt skittish at the thought. 

Snufkin looked around. This was his last chance to abandon this silly endeavor. He had told himself that if there was any sign of another soul that he’d shove the flowers onto his hat, pretending they were meant to be there, and give up entirely. For once in his life, Snufkin wasn’t so happy that it was just him and Moomin. And yet, he wouldn’t have wanted it the other way. 

As he came closer, Moomin’s ears twitched. His eyes opened, and before Snufkin knew it Moomin was on his feet, running to meet him. It was a sight he doubted he’d ever grow tired of.

“Snufkin!” Moomin cheered, “Snufkin! Where have you been? You’ll never believe what you missed!” 

“Moomintroll,” Snufkin nodded his head, though not feeling as confident as usual. Moomin didn’t seem to notice, launching right into tale.

“Oh Snufkin, you missed so much! The festival was fantastic. There was a lot of music, and so many foods to try! Sniff ate so much, he claimed to be preparing for hibernation. Can you imagine? Preparing in the beginning of summer! He was so full he wouldn’t even dance, but I looked over and he was still picking at the food. And oh! The trouble My was getting herself into. She’s a handful alone, horrible with her army. Snorkmadien and I danced, but I wish you would’ve been there. I wanted to dance with you!” 

Snufkin blinked, but lowered his hat to cover his eyes. ‘I wanted to dance with you.’ Part of him regretted not going. He didn’t respond as Moomin began to ask questions of where he was or, after a moment, if everything was okay. Instead he held out the bright flowers- yellow acacias. Moomin tilted his head, as if noticing them for the first time. 

“They’re for you.” Snufkin tried to explain, finding himself tripping over his own words. He didn’t dare look up, refusing to see what reaction Moomin might have. God knows he wouldn’t be able to live after this if it was bad. “As an apology. For missing the festival. I left on my own, it was.. too much for me, I suppose. I needed some time to myself.”

Finally, he felt soft paws take the flowers from his own. Curiosity got the better of him, and Snufkin slowly peeked out from beneath his hat, only for his eyes to widen. Moomin looked… flustered, almost. Embarrassed? He hoped not. Maybe he should apologize for the flowers. Oh, why did he even listen to Joxter in the first place? The old man doesn’t know a thing about relationships. He visits the Mymble once, maybe twice, a year. He was just about ready to pull his hat over his head and scream when Moomin pulled him into a tight embrace.

For a moment the world was frozen in the best possible way. 

“They’re beautiful, Snufkin!” Moomin pulled away, too fast in the Murmik’s opinion. “But I’m not upset you weren’t there. Plus, there’s going to be plenty of times for us to dance together!” 

Snufkin blinked before a warm smile spread across his face. How predictable, yet somehow that was just what he wanted. Without thinking too hard on it, Snufkin took Moomin’s hand.

“Well, I’m sure it won’t be half as fun as the festival, but we can still dance. There doesn’t need to be an occasion, does there?” His free hand pulled out his harmonica, holding it up to his lips as he awaited a response. 

It came in an immediate nod.   
“But wait a moment!” Snufkin watched Moomin with curiosity. He took three flowers out of the bouquet, and easily weaved them onto Snufkin’s hat. His eyes trailed from the hat down to meet Snufkin’s own. “Perfect.” 

He dearly hoped that his face didn’t look as red as it felt hot. 

Still, he didn’t feel embarrassed. Instead he laughed, and began playing a tune. It was happier than his Spring tune, bursting with joy. Moomin took one hand and they swung around, moving their legs this way and that. There was little rhyme or reason to it, though Snufkin attempted to keep in some sort of tune with the music. He couldn’t say it was his main focus at that moment. 

They danced in circles, laughing and carefree as could be. They danced until Moomin tripped and Snufkin fell after him, leaving them both in this grass. 

“Oof! Sorry about that!” Moomin giggled, looking down at Snufkin. He was missing his hat. Moomin happily grabbed it and placed it on his own head. 

Snufkin smiled. “That’s quite okay. Though I think we’ll need some practice.” 

“That’s okay! Winter isn’t coming anytime soon! We’ll have plenty more adventures together.” Moomin stated, admiring the yellow flowers. They weren’t in amazing shape anymore, but there wasn’t a trace of concern on Moomin’s face. 

“Yes… Yes I think we will.” Snufkin laid down, staring up at the clouds. Something about it all made his heart beat faster.

**Author's Note:**

> Instagram: bizarreblues   
> Tumblr: bizarre-blues/bizarrebluesart   
> Twitter: bizarre_blues


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